Above and Beyond
by TheDonutMistress
Summary: 'Falling for your roommate? It's cliché, and it's been done so many times, and it's exactly why Chris didn't want me to move in with Leon. Of course, he was convinced I already had.' Post Code Veronica Claire/Leon, or Cleon if you prefer. Some angst, some humor (I hope.) Claire POV. Penned well before Darkside Chronicles, so it's AUish at points.
1. String Cheese and Shake N Bake

Don't own the Resident Evil characters or any of that junk (Shake n Bake, etc.)

Post CVX, by a few months. LeonxClaire, from Claire's POV.

**This story was written and published in 2005, long before Darkside Chronicles came around. It's AU, to a point, especially where Sherry is mentioned. I have no plans to revamp it as of now.**

**Leon and Claire are trying the whole 'being roommates' thing, but seriously - like _I'm_ gonna just leave it at that. Not sexy because I fail at sexy. My bad.**

**Overly belated dedication to It's The Fear because she is teh awesome.  
**

* * *

It was the beginning of the second round of the Stanley Cup playoffs and the cable wasn't working right. The only TV receiving was the one in Leon's bedroom, so we'd decided to watch the game in there.

It was just the two of us. Chris, choosing to completely dismiss my love of the wonderful sport that is hockey and focus only on the fact that I'm still under 21, had invited _Leon _to go watch the game on the big screen at the bar with him and a few of his buddies from work.

And me? Well, as Chris put it: Jill wasn't doing anything, so I could hang out with her.

Now I love Jill as much as one can love the woman fucking her big brother... No, seriously, I think she's wonderful - I _adore _her - but I didn't like that Chris just assumed I wanted to hang out with her. Or her with me, for that matter.

I guess it isn't really important, because it never came to that. Leon turned my brother down. Said thanks but no thanks, maybe next time, cause he had already made plans to watch the game with me.

Chris, well-informed on nearly _every _detail of our lives, inquired about the cable situation. Leon told him that, yes, the cable was out in my room and the living room, but for some reason it worked just fine in his room, so we'd be watching the game in there. If Chris had any problem with that, he was sure to keep it to himself. He just shrugged his shoulders and gave Leon a pat on the arm. Then he turned to me and said, "Be good."

I was a little surprised Chris just left it at that, given how strongly he felt about me moving in with Leon in the first place. Then again, that could be because one day, out of the blue, I just came to him and declared, "I can't stand living with you anymore."

Chris and I had just come back from Antarctica and neither of us was in the best place emotionally. I just couldn't look at him without seeing Steve's face as he died in my arms, or Wesker's as he kicked me, choked me and referred to me as the bait he would use to lure Chris in and kill him.

Chris and I fought all the time. We hardly spent any time together. If he wasn't staying the night with Jill, _I _was. I spent most of my days off at Leon's, whether he was there or not.

It was on one of those days that Leon finally asked me, "Why don't you just move in with me? You're here all the time anyway."

The decision was made in one day and the move only took one day.

Leon and I sort of tip-toed around each other for the first week or so. It hadn't dawned on us before that we really didn't know that much about each other.

Did he snore? Did _I _snore?

Did he cook? I sure as hell don't.

We'd always gone out for food before. Except for that one time we got drunk and decided to try and make our own fried mozzarella sticks out of string cheese and Shake n Bake.

Would we buy our groceries and stuff together? Or was it each roommate for himself? Was he messy? He didn't seem to be, but you never know. You always hear about women who had no idea their husbands were total slobs until _after _the wedding. Not that he's my husband. Or fiancé. He's not even my boyfriend. We aren't together. At all.

Why do I feel the need to keep reminding myself of that?

Am _I _messy? Well, I think that goes without saying.

But the thing that worried me the absolute most was what I would do if and when Leon brought a girl home. I dreaded the morning I'd stumble into the kitchen and find some hussy at the stove, making them both a big omelet, wearing only one of his t-shirts over her panties and looking perfect even though she'd just rolled out of bed. _His _bed.

That, of course, got me wondering how thin the walls were. Was he loud? Was _I_? I didn't think I was, but who knows. I'm not exactly proud of my last couple of sexual encounters. The amount of noise we made is the least of my worries when it comes to that.

But none of that stuff ever happened. No noisy sex, no omelet-cooking hussies, or anything of the sort.

We've both been out on a couple of dates, since moving in together. Dates with other people, not each other. One or two dinners with a nice, harmless guy or girl who we never intended to see again because we can't let go of our pasts.

After a couple of weeks the awkwardness had faded and things just sort of fell into place. Leon and I had taken to doing each other's dishes and laundry, had declared Sunday movie night, Tuesday taco night, and were spitting off the balcony together like we'd known each other for years.

I don't know how to describe it, but it's like we were born to live together. Born to _be _together.


	2. I Saw Leon's Undies

I still don't own any of the Resident Evil characters or locations.

I mention Claire's age as 19, but it's possible she's still 18. If I remember right, her age is listed as 19 in the battle game screen on Code Veronica, but I'm unable to confirm an actual birth date for her. If you know it and I'm wrong, lemme know. :)

**EDIT: I've recently removed the bulk of the rant I originally posted along with this chapter, because, funny as it may have been, it had no place here. I also removed the alternate chapter 2. -_snickerfit_- Those who've read it know what I mean.**

**However, I will keep the explanations I offered in response to "Evil's" critique, right here, because I think they provide insight to anyone reading this, and since Evil's review was unsigned and he or she did not offer any contact info, I cannot reply directly to him or her. Hopefully, this will not result in me being reported by any rule-bugs here because I've acknowledged a review somewhere other than in a review reply.**

**To address Evil's concerns:  
**

**Leon and Claire didn't just move in together like that - we're talking roughly four months after Code Veronica. Leon and Claire (in my head) have been close since they met, and it was out of convenience as much as anything else that they decided to live together. As _roommates_.**

**I'm not saying they've completely abandoned their zombie killing, ridding the world of Umbrella, etc. But I think it's safe to say they had _some_ down time. This story spans _one_ evening. I think they can spare a few hours to sit down and just chill.**

* * *

It was right before game time when I emerged from my bedroom. I had just gotten out of the shower a few minutes before. My hair was still damp as I forced it into a ponytail. I was barefoot, wearing a pair of cutoff shorts, and of course, my jersey to support my team.

I stepped into the kitchen to see Leon bent over, staring into the refrigerator. He had on a pair of faded jeans and a snug navy blue t-shirt. He stood up and turned my way. I noticed he had two bottles of beer in his hand as he closed the door behind him.

"I was just about to get you," he said, offering me a bottle.

I took it and smirked at him. "Giving a minor an alcoholic beverage?"

"Well, it's not gonna drink itself. But if you don't want it..." he teased.

"Now, now. I never said I didn't want it." I paused to click my tongue and shake my head. "If I had a nickel for every time a cop gave _me_ - a very impressionable 19 year old girl - a beer-"

"I'm not a cop anymore," Leon said, somewhat sharply.

Much as I wanted to say something, I knew not to push it. The one and only fight Leon and I have had since we started living together - well, that's what it was about. I stand by what I said then - that he would be an amazing cop, that it's the perfect job for someone like him and that he deserved to be, and probably still _could _be hired just about anywhere. I just don't vocalize those feelings anymore.

"Hey, come on," he said softly, putting his hand on my back. "It's bad luck to miss the puck drop."

I just smiled and let him lead me to the bedroom.

I was a little excited and I couldn't figure out why. I mean, Leon and I had watched countless sports games together, movies, TV shows, played video games - you name it. But we didn't really spend much time in each other's bedroom. We'd hang out in the living room, then each go to our own room when we wanted to be alone.

To spend three uninterrupted hours in Leon's room, just the two of us...? Talk about heading into uncharted territory.

Leon opened his bedroom door and waited for me to step in before he did. He told me to sit wherever I wanted. He sort of crawled across his bed and picked the TV remote up off of his nightstand, putting his beer bottle down in its place. He turned the TV on as I sat down in his computer chair.

You know, Leon's room is very neat, especially for a guy's room. Way nicer than my room. God, my room is a shithole.

He's got a black comforter, with sheets and pillowcases to match. There's a little nightstand by the bed, with a lamp and a phone on it. The dresser's on one side of the room, near the window; his computer, computer desk, and kick ass swivel chair all sit near the door. The TV is right in front of the bed, just where it should be.

I noticed a couple of magazines and notebooks on the computer desk. A few CDs - things like that. There was a pair of boots and a backpack on the floor. He really didn't have a lot of personal effects, it seemed.

From the beginning of the game it was crystal clear that this would be a hard-fought victory, if a victory at all. Things just weren't going the way they were supposed to.

I groaned as another bad call was made and Leon shouted, "Come on!"

Leon was sitting at the edge of his bed, his weight on his arms as he leaned back slightly.

I was slouching in the computer chair off to his right, studying his profile as much as I was watching the game. The blinds were open just a bit, the orange-red glow of the sunset shining through. It highlighted all of Leon's features, including but not limited to his ridiculously long eyelashes and brought out that little bit of red in his hair.

I finished off my beer as the wrong guy skated to the penalty box and they cut to commercial.

I stood up to go for more booze. "Hey."

"Hmm?" Leon looked away from the TV and over at me.

I pointed to the empty beer bottle in my hand. That was my way of asking Leon if he needed another beer. I knew _I _did.

We'd sort of been taking turns running to the kitchen during commercial breaks and it just happened to be my turn this time around.

Leon leaned over, stretching to reach his bottle, sitting on his nightstand. His shirt came up just a bit and I was awarded a good look at his _bare_ lower back and the waistband of his boxer shorts. Leon picked up the bottle to check how much he had left.

"Yeah, I could use another one," he told me, raising the bottle to his lips and downing what had to have been close to half of that beer at once.

I giggled a little and said, "Be right back." I took the empty bottle from his hand and turned for the door.

"What? What are you laughing at?" he shouted, as I left the room.

Soon as I was out in the hallway I allowed myself a smile and another little giggle. This time it wasn't at Leon's expense, although he _did _inspire it. What can I say? I was buzzed.

I sort of floated my way to the kitchen, thinking to myself, _I saw Leon's undies. I saw Leon's undies. I saw Leon's- Damn, Leon's hot. Damn. Leon's hot. Damn. _

Not that that's a bad thing. It's just...falling for your roommate? It's so cliché. It's been done so many times. It's cliché and it's been done so many times and it's exactly why Chris didn't want me to move in with Leon. Of course, he was convinced I'd _already _fallen for him. Who knows, maybe I had.

When I reached the kitchen I tossed the empty bottles into the recycling bin and grabbed two more beers out of the fridge. I opened both bottles and headed back to the bedroom.

When I reentered the room I found Leon standing on the bed, with a spiral notebook in one hand, swearing and swinging wildly at something near his head.

"Die, you fucker!" he shouted, as the front of the notebook smacked against the ceiling.

"Chill out, Kennedy. It was only a two-minute minor. We've got the third best penalty kill in the league. Not to mention arguably the best goalie to ever play the game. It'll be okay," I said.

Leon hopped off the bed and tossed the notebook-turned-melee-weapon to the ground. "Very funny."

I sort of smirked at him as my way of responding to his remark. My way of letting him know I had taken the statement as a compliment, even though he clearly hadn't meant it as one.

"Damn moths," he muttered, taking a step toward me and reaching for one of the bottles I held.

I chuckled a little and shook my head at his antics, reclaiming my seat in his swivel chair.

Leon sat down at the edge of his bed once again.

"I'm serious. It's a..." His voice trailed off. "Conspiracy? No, that's not right. An epidemic? Nah. Shit. What's the word I'm looking for?"

"Infestation?" I wondered.

Leon sort scrunched his face up and shook his head. "No. I don't think that's it. I guess it works, though."

We were silent for a moment, eyes fixed on the television. They'd come back from commercial. The game was back on. I had to remind myself _that _was why I was in Leon's room right now - to watch a hockey game with him. Nothing more. Although he did show me his underwear. But he didn't mean to. So what? He showed them to me. It counts.

_I saw Leon's undies. I saw Leon's undies. _

Goddamnit._  
_

Just as I was cursing myself for my juvenile thoughts, Leon exclaimed, "Invasion!"

"What?" I asked.

"That's the word I was looking for," he explained.

I laughed a little. "Is it really?"

"Yeah. Why?" he asked.

"It's just that one wouldn't necessarily call having a few moths in their apartment an invasion," I pointed out.

"Ah, what do you know?" he asked, taking a big swig of his beer.

"Well, for starters..." I began, coolly, smugly, and thinking,_ I know what color your underwear are_. I was quickly interrupted though, as the most _gigantic _moth I have ever seen nearly flew into my open mouth. "Holy shit!" I wiped my mouth and shook my head.

Rather than make fun of me, or tell me 'I told you so' Leon simply stood up and reached for his trusty notebook, saying only, (to the moth, mind you) "I thought I took care of you." Leon then addressed me, "Hold this, okay?"

I took the beer bottle from his hand, our fingers touching and our eyes meeting for just a second, before his gaze was drawn up to the ceiling, to my insect attacker.

I heard the familiar slapping sound of the notebook connecting with plaster, followed immediately by a triumphant little chuckle. Clearly, the threat had been neutralized, thanks to Leon's efforts. I wondered why he was so passionate about killing the stupid thing. Did he have a run-in with a giant moth in Raccoon City or something? You know what, he probably did.

It was in that moment that I realized moth-killer Leon is a force to be reckoned with. It gave me some more insight as to what he'd have been like as a cop. Something I really need to quit thinking about, as he swears he isn't cut out for that anymore, "...if he ever was."

One thing's for sure, I never want to be arrested by cop Leon but _roommate _Leon can "arrest" me whenever he wants and for whatever reason.

Oh boy. Well, It seems I've managed to find a connection between moth-killer Leon and cop Leon. Now if I could just turn _roommate _Leon into _boyfriend _Leon, I'd be set.

You know, pretty soon my ever-growing feelings for each and every Leon are gonna need their own zip code. Because, as the period was winding down, I was still mentally reciting, _I saw Leon's undies._ In fact, I had come up with a tune to go with it. _I saw Le-on's un-dies. I saw Le-on's un-dies._

During the intermission Leon grabbed us two more beers, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Most of them involved him and were sufficiently perverted as a result.

When did this harmless crush of mine get so out of control?

I tried to force those oh-so-inappropriate musings out of my head somehow. I had to busy myself, entertain myself. Find something else to focus my energy on. I pondered looking through that notebook of Leon's, but didn't do it because I'd be livid if someone went through my things without my permission. In the end I just spun myself around in his swivel chair to the point that I nearly puked all over the place.

I was beyond dizzy when Leon returned. I can only imagine what I must've looked like, sprawled out on the chair, arms and legs limp as overcooked spaghetti, staring up at the ceiling, mouth agape and groaning. Pretty funny looking, I'm thinking, if the way Leon laughed at me was any indication.

He was quick to lean in and sweetly ask me if I was okay.

I gave a weak nod and instinctively extended my hand for another beer.

Leon extended his hand as well. Didn't give me another beer, though. Instead he helped me to stand and escorted me to his bed.

"Okay... The computer chair is off-limits for the rest of the night," he said, simply.

"Fine by me," I agreed, still feeling a little woozy. That wooziness showed, as I stumbled a bit before plopping myself down on the bed. "So, only drunk girls get to sit on the bed, eh, Kennedy?" I joked.

Leon laughed. "You crack me up, Claire. You don't hold anything back with me. That's what I love about you." He shot me a big smile and gave me a little nudge.

My wooziness was gone, replaced with a slightly different sensation in my stomach. The proverbial "butterflies," I suppose. I didn't quite know how to respond to what Leon had said. I took a minute to try and figure out how to tell him what had been there since our first meeting, but for some reason, had always gone unsaid.

"I don't have to hold anything back with you," I said, quietly. "That's what I love about you."


	3. Wtf?

Still don't own any of the characters or anything.

I owe some credit to my reviewer, Evil, because I didn't have a firm idea of where I wanted to go with this, but his/her review got me thinking._  
_

* * *

"God, I'm gonna miss you so much, Claire," Leon said, shaking his head. A wistful smile had set up camp on his face. His beautiful boyish face.

"Miss me? I'm not going anywhere," I said, swaying a bit.

Buzzed and enjoying it. Except for not being able to think straight, and thus, not being able to comprehend what Leon was saying to me. Other than that I was enjoying it.

"I know," he said, seeming like he wanted to say something more, but didn't.

"Then why are you gonna miss me? Not planning on ditching me, are you?" I asked. I meant to sound playful, but instead I came off as whiny.

Needy. Pathetic. Scared.

I told myself he wouldn't ditch me. But I didn't quite believe it. I knew as well as Leon did, that he'd leave if he had a good enough reason.

I know, I know, this was only a temporary thing anyway. I knew from the get-go we weren't gonna live together like this forever. Not me with my boring, normal part-time job, and plans to get back into school next fall. Not Leon, doing whatever it is he does. He's never really said. He'll just up and leave and be gone for a couple days, come back with a few cuts and bruises, take a long shower, sleep a whole day then it's business as usual again. He doesn't come out and tell me where he's been and under whose orders he went, and I don't ask. I mean, I get the gist of it.

The enemy is still out there and he's still fighting that enemy. It's what he was trained to do, after all. Right the wrongs of the world. Fight those who are just asking to have their asses kicked. I'd like to think he's paid his dues, gone above and beyond the call of duty, but I know better than to believe he's slowing down anytime soon.

I know that to genuinely believe that Leon would turn the other cheek, like Chris had all but insisted I do, is just plain stupid. A silly dream, played out far too long. The idea that we could have just a few short months of peace, or something resembling normalcy - how dare us for even _thinking _it.

"No, Claire. I'm not ditching you. I'd never," Leon said seriously, solemnly.

"Then you're not going anywhere?" I asked, tentatively.

I don't know why I insisted on dragging this out. I don't know what I expected Leon to say.

Though hockey clearly wasn't a priority anymore, I could still hear the game in the background. My ears had tuned into the sounds of the crowd. A mixture of cheering and booing, because one man's victory is always another man's bitter defeat.

"I'm not _ditching _you. It's just, I got this offer a couple weeks ago. Seems my anti-Umbrella efforts got their attention. Guess I'm the kind of guy they've been looking for," Leon began explaining, seeming in a hurry to get the words out of his mouth.

"Is that so? What exactly were they looking for?" I asked.

"Someone with a military background, or law enforcement training, or something like that. My being so anti-Umbrella doesn't hurt either. I guess they've had their sights on me for a while." He absently ran a hand through his hair.

"So, they recruited you?" I asked.

Leon exhaled slowly, and said, "Yeah. More or less."

Knowing better than to ask _if_ Leon was leaving, I chose instead to ask, "When are you leaving?"

"A week from tomorrow."

I stood up. "'Night, Leon," I muttered, stomping my way out of his room.

He didn't so much as move. Didn't protest, didn't follow me. Nothing. A moment later I could hear the sound of his door closing. He didn't even slam it.

Was I not worthy of a door slam? The _nerve _of that guy. He's so fucking dense sometimes. I mean, I love him, but-

I mean, I love him.

I love him.

And he doesn't have a fucking clue.

I stomped my way to my bedroom, slammed my door, and angrily plopped myself down on the bed. I laid down and stared up at the ceiling. My nose had already started to stuff up, as my eyes welled up with tears.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Any of it. My life wasn't supposed to be like this. A simple trip to see my brother wasn't supposed to turn into a dirty, cheap, no-holds-barred, nothing sacred kind of fight just to survive.

And after we got out... After we escaped... I mean, wasn't _that _supposed to have been the worst of it? Weren't things supposed to get better after that?

I think back to this vision I have of what should've happened. As far back as I allow myself to go, anyway. I can't go back to who I was before Raccoon City, much as I'd like to sometimes.

In this vision of mine, I'd go off and find Chris - maybe even save him in the process, proving once and for all that Claire Redfield can bring it. Leon and Sherry would get settled in somewhere nice. Some unassuming little place we could all call home. We'd take care of Sherry - be her all-too-hip parent-types. All her friends would express just the right amount of envy about it too. Just enough to help her forget she's an orphan. They'd drool over Leon. (What red-blooded girl wouldn't?) They'd think I was just so damn cool and secretly aspire to be like me. Why, I don't know. I never really focused on the details of that one. Whoops.

Now, I'm no idiot. I _know _that was never a reasonable wish. I've known it all along.

Just like I know Leon made the right choice. Much as it hurt to ask him, "Where's Sherry?" and be told, "She's gone, Claire." I knew the second he said it, that he had done what he had to do.

I doubt I'd have been strong enough to do it. Any of it. To tell the so-called government agent that approached them to fuck off. To escort Sherry halfway across the country and turn her over to the relative he'd handpicked to take care of her, because he knew he couldn't. To tell them both to change their names and for Sherry never contact him (or me) ever again, because it wasn't safe. To watch their backs, because rest assured, others were watching Sherry too. To say goodbye to her.

I'm glad I wasn't there to do it and I'm damn pissed I have to be here to say it to Leon.

_Fuck it,_ I thought _I'm not leaving my bedroom for the next week. He can slide a note under my door if he thinks this is goodbye._

I heard a light knock a few minutes later. I sat up, angry - more at myself and the world than Leon. I was red-faced, my cheeks colored with that anger and stained with my tears.

I wiped my face quickly with my palms and shouted a less-than-inviting, "What?"

Leon didn't answer, not verbally anyway. His response was to open my door and stroll into my room.

I looked over his way, but didn't say anything. I was still upset, obviously, and too focused on whether or not he'd be able to tell I was crying.

He walked over to my bed, carefully avoiding the mess, sidestepping the clothes, shoes, magazines, and sketchbooks like a pro.

"I said 'What?' not 'Come in,'" I muttered.

He held his hand out to me. My beer. I'd left it behind in his room.

I took it from him. I made sure not to touch his hand this time. "You could've just dumped it out, or had it yourself, you know? You didn't have to-"

Leon cut me off. "I needed an excuse to come barging into your room."

He sat down on my bed, so close to me that I could feel his leg against mine. Denim, softened over time, but still rough, brushing against my bare skin.

"I don't believe this," I practically hissed.

"What do you want from me, Claire? Was I supposed to consult you before I told them yes? Or should I have just said no? You know, I'm beginning to understand why you and Chris were at each other's throats all the time," Leon said, sharply, and his meaning hit me like a ton of bricks.

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" I asked, in an _I can't believe you said that _tone, as if I didn't already know what he was getting at.

"You're not always the easiest person to be close to," Leon said simply. Simply, and very clearly without apology.

"What would you know about that? And why the hell do you care? You're almost outta here anyway. What the hell difference does it make to you, huh? If I'm so difficult to be close to. Since when did you even care?"

"Since always. And don't get all high and mighty on me. Yeah, I said it. You're hard as hell to be close to. But it's still not half as hard as _not _being close to you," Leon said, forcefully, but in an even tone.

I looked up from staring at my own legs and into Leon's eyes. He seemed to be squinting slightly, was scowling and his cheeks were a bit flushed. Flushed in frustration I would assume. We sat there on my bed, touching but feeling worlds apart, not speaking.

I looked down at my beer, which was still full, as if thinking the answer might be in there. "This sucks," I finally mumbled.

"Kinda, yeah," Leon agreed, sort of sheepishly. He was quick to add, "But it's important, you know?"

"I know. That's why it sucks so much. How can I be mad at you for leaving when I know you have to do it?" I asked.

I wasn't asking Leon, though, really. I was asking myself.

"I don't know. You tell me," he remarked.

"Oh, shut up, Leon," I grumbled, stuck somewhere between wanting to smile at him and hit him. "This is hard for me, you know?"

"I know," he said, softly.

"I mean..." My voice faded out. "When you said what you _loved_ about me, I didn't think you were gonna follow it up with, 'Guess what? I'm leaving next week.'"

"Believe it or not, that's not how I was planning on following it up either," he admitted, with a chuckle.

"Oh really? Do tell, Mr. Kennedy," I said, mockingly and a bit snottier than I had intended. "How were you gonna follow it up?"

I smirked at Leon, but before the look could settle in on my face, he'd wiped it away. His thumbs brushed against the corners of my mouth, trying to fashion something pleasant out of my sour expression, no doubt. Or maybe I had little crusties there and he was trying to slyly wipe them away before he kissed me. Because really, who wants to make out with _that_?

Leon was so gentle - the type of guy who's so good he doesn't have to be forceful, or aggressive. He gave me a slow, soft kiss, not even trying to force his tongue into my mouth. Something I'd have been A-OK with, by the way. He backed up just a bit, looked me up and down, and took the beer bottle out of my hands.

I'd forgotten I was even holding it.

He made a point of showing me he wasn't done with me, he was just getting _that_ out of the way.

Before I knew it, Leon was back on the edge of my bed, kissing me, and his warm hands were pulling my jersey up. He broke the kiss just long enough to ease it over my head. I felt his fingers crawling up my back and his lips against mine once again, as he unhooked my bra. _Expertly _unhooked my bra. Before he could take my bra off, I'd reached for him, forcing him to pause and let me unceremoniously yank his t-shirt off. I'm definitely not as skilled at removing another person's clothing as he is.

He slid my bra off and I ran my hands down his chest, past toned and baby-butt smooth abs, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. I could feel his lips curve into a smile at that. He stood up and pulled me up with him. He undid my fly and we simultaneously stepped out of our jeans.

Leon pulled away from our kissing - which had gotten rather intense - and murmured, "You know what happens next, right?"

_You do a couple of turns and let me get a good look at you? Or how about you leave me all hot and bothered to go grab a condom?_ I thought to myself. "Yeah. I know," I whispered, tugging at the waistband of his boxers.

I think I can figure out what happens next.


	4. I'm Gonna Miss You, Bubba

I don't own any of the Resident Evil characters or locations, etc.

Sorry that I wasn't planning on making it a longer fic! That's all, folks! There ain't much plot this time around, just some pointless chit-chat between Leon and Claire. Basically, it's my lame way of tying this thing up. Maybe I'll write a sequel to this at some point. Ta-ta, and I hope you enjoy!

And yes, the tense changed for this chapter. My Leon also still has some red in his hair. Cuz that's how it should be, damn it. XP

* * *

I don't know what time it is. Only that it's morning, because I can see the sun. In thin strips, peeking through the blinds, shedding just the right amount of light on everything.

I'm in bed. My own, thanks. Although I'm not alone and I can't quite believe who I'm next to. I'm lying on my side, facing him, watching him sleep. Messy strawberry blond hair, his bare back, the slight movement of his body every time he takes a breath.

I close my eyes for a minute. It's like I know he's about to wake up. He's about to wake up and then, well, we're both gonna have to wake up. To a lot of things. The reality of what happened last night being the first of those things. Where do we go from here? I mean, for crying out loud, he's leaving in a week. Ditching me. Like I tried so hard to convince myself he wouldn't. Who knows how long he's gonna be gone? And does he still live here, even though he's not going to be here? Do I need to find another roommate? Am I better off just moving out and finding another apartment altogether? Moving back in with Chris? Trying my hand at being Jill's roommate, if she'll have me?

_Ugh. _I guess I should just be happy I got some before being ditched.

I feel the shift of weight next to me, then a soft fist brushing against my stomach from beneath the sheets - skin-on-skin contact. Leon's awake now and he's just rolled my way. His fist opens and his hand makes its way up my body, starting at about my waist, sliding up my torso and lingering over one of my bare breasts. Not surprising. I hear a groan and a moment later, I feel that same breast-loving hand on my face, trying to map my features and report back to the mind it had been dispatched by, I'm sure.

"Finger outta my nose, Kennedy," I mutter, sounding about as coherent as he had just a minute ago.

"Fuck me," he mumbles, in a half-asleep and quite possibly hung over voice and slowly opens his eyes.

"Sure you're up for it?" I joke. "You don't sound so good."

"Oh God... I'm such a slut," he says.

I laugh a little. I'm faring about as well as he is. No doubt I'm feeling the aftereffects of last night. And not just in my head. That laugh sort of causes my stomach to flip and I feel queasy for a minute.

"I _am _a slut. That says it all. Unless I'm imagining it... Unless we didn't really..."

"We did," I cut him off.

He's the one to chuckle this time.

"A lot," I add. "Well, maybe not a lot, but enough anyway. And you stayed the whole night."

Leon smiles and offers a little nod. "Long trip down the hall, you know? Besides, your room's closer to the can."

I chuckle a bit.

"Claire?"

"Yeah?" I ask.

"Nothing," Leon says, shaking his head.

"No, come on. What is it?" I ask.

"It's nothing, really. I was just thinking."

"About what?" I ask.

"I was kinda hoping we'd be sober when we finally did it, but oh well," Leon says, with just a hint of longing in his voice.

"You mean you thought about us too?" I wonder.

"Of course I did," he answers. After a moment he adds, "All the time."

"Why didn't you say something?"

Leon's all-too-quick reply is, "Why didn't you?"

"I asked you first," I tease.

"You suck," he mumbles. He says it playfully, though.

So playfully that I just can't resist making a smart ass remark. "No I _don't _suck. So you just get _that _idea outta your head right now, bubba."

Leon laughs. "Bubba?"

"Oh yeah. You're a bubba," I say.

Leon laughs again. "And you?"

"Me? No, I'm totally not a bubba. Besides, _you're _supposed to give _me _a pet name."

"Pet name? Hell no, Claire. Bubba is not a pet name. It's a prison name."

I giggle a little and offer up my best pout. "Come on. You can come up with something. What am I to you?" I ask.

"You're just Claire to me."

"Okay then, what do you _want _me to be?"

We're quiet for a minute. Leon really seems to be thinking this over.

I'm waiting for him to say something along the lines of, 'What do _I _want you to be? How about taller, less annoying, and bigger in the chest?'

Leon looks at me so intensely that I can't look away. He says one word. "Claire."

"Huh?" I ask, breathless and a little confused.

"I want you to be Claire. The same Claire you are right now. I want you to still be her when I come back."

I nod, and quietly tell him, "I'll try."

He smiles but doesn't say anything more. He just rolls onto his back and moves to pull me in close to him.

I scoot over his way, feeling his arm wrap around me as I put my head on his chest. Leon rests his chin on the top of my head and runs his fingertips up and down my arm. It tickles a little - tingles, even - and I've got goosebumps. I snuggle up to Leon and close my eyes.

I stand by what I said last night: I'm not leaving my bedroom for the next week. I'm not, and neither is he.


End file.
